


The Time We Have

by LittleDarkling



Category: Leverage
Genre: Angst, Car Sex, Episode Related, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-07-28
Packaged: 2018-02-10 18:24:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2035353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleDarkling/pseuds/LittleDarkling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alec, Eliot, Eliot’s car. Some naughtiness and angst. In that order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Time We Have

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Characters belong to Devlin and Co. This is a work of fan love. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
> 
> Spoilers: The Boost Job
> 
>  A/N: I am really useless at summaries. Also, I think I ruined a perfectly good PWP with angst. Sorry, on both counts.

 

They end up in the back of Eliot’s car. Slick skin sticking to the smooth leather, the windows fogged with perspiration. The air inside is thick and hot, almost stifling, with the scent of sex, sweat, Alec’s aftershave and Eliot’s cologne. The backseat is hardly conducive for this kind of thing, regardless of how urban lore portrays it. Alec is ridiculously long-limbed; he cannot stretch out comfortably in this space. And Eliot is far too muscular to share the seat with his partner. Still, Alec’s persistently wandering hands throughout dinner tonight had been too much for him to ignore. This is how they end up crammed into the narrow space of the backseat, Alec situated between Eliot’s thighs, nuzzling at the open ‘V’ of his jeans, nose brushing the hard length of the hitter’s cock.

  
“You sure you’re alright?” he murmurs. Eliot nods, fingers stroking over the young hacker’s head.

“M’fine,” he rasps. “Need this.” He tilts his head back against the seat, exhaling a breath. His hair is damp with sweat. The cramped angle makes him all the more aware of the sore places on his body, the tight pressure in his chest and abdomen where bruises have already started to color.

Alec’s hands slide up his thighs, warm through the worn fabric of his jeans. His hot, sleek tongue drags over the length of his cock, teasing at the hot, velvety flesh, the action drawing a shaky moan from Eliot’s lips. Alec curls long, elegant fingers around the base and when the slick heat of the hacker’s mouth finally surrounds him, tight and wet, tongue curling, dragging, sucking, the hitter shuts his eyes tight, breath punched out of him. He thrusts up, unable to help himself.

Alec is prepared for it, drawing back just enough so he doesn’t choke. His hand moves to ruck up Eliot’s shirt, shoving the fabric to the middle of his chest. Rough, keyboard-callused fingertips rub gently across his abdomen; his touch is careful, mindful of the injuries. Eliot covers Alec’s hand with his own, linking their fingers. The hacker looks up, dark eyes flashing in the sticky yellow of the street light that is slinking in through the windows. He draws back to let his teeth graze the tender spot beneath the head of Eliot’s cock and the older man arches with a shout as a star-bright sliver of pain penetrates the hazy pleasure.

“God, Hardison…” he gasps. The hacker smiles and buries his nose in the rough curls at the base of Eliot’s cock, inhaling the dark, earthy scent of the man’s skin. Eliot’s free hand curls around the back of his head, gentle, cradling rather than urging. No matter how desperate he is, he will never press Alec to fulfill his own desires. It’s something the hacker has always marveled at, how carefully controlled the older man is when they’re together. Maybe it is why Alec enjoys baiting him, why he takes such pleasure in breaking his partner’s restraint. He rubs his head, cat-like, against Eliot’s palm.

“Don’t have to be so careful, baby,” he murmurs, moving up brush his lips across the hitter’s stomach. “I can handle it.” Eliot makes a rough, broken sound in the back of his throat. His fingers flex against the younger man’s head, but he still he doesn’t try to push Alec where he wants him.  
His dips his tongue into Eliot’s navel and nips at the tender skin around it. He can feel Eliot’s breath catch, the soft, quiet moan he fails to muffle. Under the assault of teeth and tongue, his skin colors bright pink and Alec draws back to appreciate his handiwork.

“Hardison…” Eliot rasps.

“Mm-hm?” the hacker hums distractedly, his thumb stroking back and forth over the abused flesh. A droplet of sweat spills down Eliot’s side and Alec moves to catch it on the tip of his tongue, following its origin to the glistening hollow of Eliot’s throat. The hitter grunts, chin bumping Alec’s head.

“I can make you stop teasing me,” he growls. Tries for intimidating, but falls short; his voice is so damn wrecked and he’s a trembling mess in the hacker’s hands. Alec holds himself over the older man, careful not to put any weight on his partner’s torso. Eliot’s chestnut hair is damp, sticking to his face and his throat, brushing Alec’s cheek as he noses the line of the hitter’s jaw.

“But you won’t…” Alec murmurs, tongue flicking out across Eliot’s lips. Eliot tilts his head, catching Alec’s mouth in a demanding, somewhat awkward kiss. The younger man’s lips open to him and he moans lowly as Eliot sucks languidly at his tongue. It’s a dirty, wet kiss that makes Alec shiver, his own cock straining against his jeans. He wraps a hand around Eliot’s length, working him with slow, rough strokes. The incoherent obscenity that rumbles from the hitter’s throat is lost against Alec’s lips.

Eliot’s open mouth is pressed to his, an exchange of panting breaths. He can feel the flex of Eliot’s strong thighs as he thrusts into his encircling hand. When Alec rubs his thumb over the slick head of his cock, letting him feel the rough rub of keyboard calluses, Eliot chokes out a breath and buries his face against his throat. Faded scent of cologne and Alec’s sweat filling every gasping breath that he takes. Alec can feel the pressure of his partner’s gritted teeth against his skin. He wants Eliot to bite down, to mark and bruise, wants the ache and knowledge of Eliot littered across his skin for days. His grip on the hitter’s length tightens, drawing a strangled moan from those plush, bruised lips. Eliot’s hands slink under Alec’s shirt, dragging over the damp skin of his back.

“Please. Fuck. Please….Hardison. Please,” he gasps, his words a hot breath against Alec’s throat. His voice is rough, accent a sweet heavy slur tangled around his words.

“Shhh,” the younger man soothes, gently massaging the sweaty, bruised flesh of Eliot’s abdomen, rubbing his smooth cheek against the hitter’s stubble-rough jaw. Alec needs this as much as his partner does. The heat of Eliot’s skin, the low rumble of his voice, pulse and heartbeat, strong and sure.  
He slides down Eliot’s body, pressing soft kisses to the older man’s torso. Hovering over the hitter’s cock, he breathes hotly against the red, thick flesh. A soft obscenity falls from Eliot’s lips. His hips rise of their own accord, his erection straining for the familiar heat of Alec’s mouth. Eyes half-lidded, mouth slack, plump lips slick and bruised. Alec lowers his head, tongue teasing at the tender foreskin, and, oh, it feels so damn good. Pain flares across Eliot’s torso as he arches up, pushing his cock deeper into Alec’s mouth. He throws his head back against the seat, the moan that is dragged from his throat escaping his lips in a harsh sob.

Alec is not teasing any more. Silken caress of his tongue, curling around the underside of Eliot’s cock and the faintest scrap of teeth across the tender skin. His large hands rubbing over Eliot’s thighs.  
Fuck…Right. There. Heat pools in his belly, the first, sharp shocks of impending orgasm. He tenses as Alec swallows around him, the hot, silken channel of his throat constricting, an intensity of pleasure that is felt in every nerve and muscle. The scent of sex, of heat and sweat surrounds him, every breath burning his lungs. He is consumed.

Eliot’s fingers curl around his head, careful pressure to keep Alec where he wants him. The low, thrilled groan of approval that comes from the hacker shoots through his sensitized body like a shockwave. Eliot comes hard, in near silence, thighs bowstring tight beneath the younger man’s hands. Alec swallows it all, moaning roughly. The vibration sends shocks of sensation, shivery tendrils that heighten the dizzying pleasure of orgasm. Alec works him gently as Eliot rides out his climax. His eyes are on the hitter’s face, watching, holding his gaze. Eliot’s eyes are darker, unfocused, and glassy. Rough, shaking fingers slip down, brushing the hacker’s cheek, where the skin is stretched taut. Alec draws back slowly, his partner’s arousal slipping from his lips.  
Eliot presses his cheek against the window, chill against his flushed skin, his panting breaths fogging the glass.

“Goddamn, Hardison…” he murmurs, rubbing a hand over his flushed, sweat-drenched face. Alec tucks him back into his jeans, careful. He moves back, fingers dragging over the hitter’s trembling thighs.

“Never get over how gorgeous you look when I’ve got you like this,” he murmurs, voice gone deep, scrapped raw. Eliot looks at him, Alec’s dark, sweaty skin shining in the silvery bands of moonlight that fall through the windshield.

“Come here,” he slurs, fisting a hand in the hacker’s ridiculous shirt and tugging him into a sloppy, uncoordinated kiss. He can taste himself on Alec’s lips, in the slick heat of his mouth. Mingled with a spicy, sugary taste that is entirely Alec. The hacker’s weight against his bruised body makes the pain flare anew, but he ignores it and pulls the younger man closer. Draws him down until he can feel the pounding of Alec’s heart against his own, the heat of his arousal though his jeans. His fingers curl against the button-fly starting to tug it open. Alec’s long fingers encircle his wrist, drawing his hand back. Eliot looks at him in confusion, but the hacker smiles gently.

“Later,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the corner of Eliot’s mouth.

“Later?” the hitter asks with a frown. Alec almost laughs at his partner’s expression.

“This ain’t over, cowboy. But what I got in mind requires a little more privacy and a lot more leg room.” Alec bumps his knee against the back of the passenger seat for emphasis and grins at Eliot’s soft snort of amusement.

“Ok,” the hitter exhales, head falling back against the seat. His skin is flushed bright, pink and damp with cooling sweat. His shirt is still rucked-up, old scars and new bruises not enough to mar the exquisite architecture, the perfect lines of muscle in Eliot’s torso. Alec brushes his fingers over his abdomen, slipping down to circle his navel. Eliot’s hand rests loosely over the bulge in Alec’s jeans. He can feel the heat and pressure of his arousal against his palm.

“You sure about ‘later’?” he murmurs, pressing down gently to pull a muffled groan from the hacker.

“I’m sure,” Alec replies and leans in to kiss Eliot. The hitter makes a soft sound, lips parting beneath the hacker’s questing tongue. He slides a hand behind Alec’s head, anchoring him to the kiss. Alec feeds Eliot the remnant taste of himself, still vaguely bitter on the tip of his tongue. They share a series of slick, filthy kisses, sweat trickling over their skin. It is Eliot who finally pulls back, muttering,

“Fuck. It’s hot in here.” He looks at the younger man. “You wanna go now?” Eliot’s plush mouth is shiny and swollen, almost red. Alec exhales a shaky breath, resisting the urge to pin the hitter to the seat and finish what they started. It would be easy to get them both naked, to tease Eliot until threats give way to broken pleading, hitched sobbing breaths as Alec fucks him. But he wants more than that tonight. He wants time with Eliot.

“Nah. Let’s just…hang out here for a bit,” Alec says.  
Eliot pushes open the door, murmuring in contentment at the blast of cool, salt-tinged air that hits his face. He slides out of the backseat and drops down against the car. The asphalt is bumpy and rough beneath him and the metal of car, cold against his overheated skin. Alec remains slumped in the backseat, long legs splayed out carelessly. He reaches out to smooth Eliot’s disheveled hair.

“What are you doin’?” the older man mumbles, closing his eyes as the hacker’s fingers brush over his forehead.

“You look like you got a mutant porcupine on your head,” Alec replies.

“Shut up, Hardison,” Eliot grumbles, but he doesn’t push his hand away. They sit in silence, listening to the dull roar of the ocean and the occasional car passing by on the mostly deserted stretch of road.

“Thought I lost you today,” Alec says suddenly. Eliot cracks open an eye to look at him.

“You ain’t getting rid of me that easy,” he mutters.

“I know,” the younger man replies. “But, I mean, the guns and you weren’t there and I couldn’t raise you on the comm. I kinda assumed the worst.” He draws one leg up, propping it against the back of the driver’s seat. For a time Eliot doesn’t speak and Alec figures he’s fallen asleep. The sweat is cooling rapidly on his skin, making him shiver. His fingers brush the back of Eliot’s neck; his skin is damp and cold too.

“I know this ain’t easy. I know I don’t make it easy,” the hitter says. “But you gotta believe as long as I can, I’m gonna come home to you.”

“I know.” _As long as I can._ The words that are meant to comfort, leave him feeling cold. The longer Eliot keeps this up, the faster the clock will run out.  
Alec takes a shuddery breath, twines his fingers into Eliot’s hair and watches the water.

End


End file.
